
Qass. 
Book. 




OXBERRY'S 



I* 



^Mf^lin^v lir^m;»4 1 1 



THE CITIZEN 



A FARCE ; 



i^rttiur JfHuvDits 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY WELLS AND LILLY— COURT-STREET: 
A. T. GOODRICH & CO. NEVY-YORK, 

1823. 



e VVX<W\-VM VW«AA«V\ VW»<MA<V%A'VVX'«A/\'MA VWVWWk -VKK iWt 



1 






mm& 



C9JrTAINED IN THIS EDITIOW, AS FAR AS V£T PtB« 
LISH£D in ENGLAND. 



No. 1 A New Way to Pay Old 
Debts. 

2 Rivals. 

3 West Indian. 

4 Hypocrite. 

5 Jealous Wife. 

6 She Stoops to Conquer. 

7 Richard III. 

8 Beggar's Opera. 

9 Wonder. 
10 Duenna. 

Jl Alexander the Great. 

12 Lionel and Clarissa. 

13 Hamlet. 

14 Venice Preserved. 

15 Is he Jealous? * 

16 Woodman's Hut. * 

17 Love in a Village. 

18 Way to Keep Him. 

19 Castle Spectre. 
30 Maid of the Mill. 

21 Clandestine Marriage. 

22 Soldier's Daughter. 

23 Othello. 

24 Distressed Mother. 

25 Provoked Husband. 

26 Deaf and Dumb. 

27 Busy Body. 

28 Belle's Stratagem. 

29 Romeo and Julietv 

30 Recruiting Officer. 

31 Bold Stroke for a Wife. 

32 Road to Ruin. 

33 Beaux' Stratagem. 
S4 As you Like It. 

35 King John. 

36 Countr}^ Girl. 

37 Jane Shore. 
33 Critic. * 



39 Coriolanus. 

40 Rosina. * 

41 Suspicious Husband. 

42 Honest Thieves. * 

43 Mayor of Garratt. * 

44 Merry Wives of Windsot 

45 Stranger. 

46 Three Weeks after Ma 

riage. * 

47 King Lear. 

48 Incoristant. 

49 Shipwreck. * 

50 Rugantino. * 

51 Wild Oats. 

52 Rule a Wife and Have 

Wife. 

53 Magpie. * 

54 Quaker. * 

55 Merchant of Venice. 

56 Wheel of Fortune. 

57 Rob Roy. 
63 Citizen. * 

59 Deserter. * 

60 Miser. * 

61 Guy Mannering. 

62 Cymbelme. 

63 Lying Valet. * 

64 Tv/elfth Night. 

65 The Confederacj'. 

66 Douglas. 

67 Who's the Dupe. * 

68 Know Your own Mind; 

69 Macbeth. 

70 Tobacconist. * 

71 Midnight Hour. 

72 Grecian Daughter. 

73 Fortune's Frolic. * 

74 King Henry IV. 



0" Those marked thus * are Farces or Melo-drumes ; t 
friees of wJvch are 20 ants ; the Plays and Operas 25 eents. 



iBv^tvv^*& iStifition. 



THE CITIZEN, 

A FARCE : tJ~. 

i$g Arthur mur^jftg. 



WITH PREFATORY REMARKS. 

THE ONLY EDITION EXISTING WHICH IS FAITHFULLY 

MARKED WITH THE STAGE BUSINESS, 

AND STAGE DIRECTIONS, 

AS IT IS PERFORMED AT THE 

JJTfieatres HogaL 

By W. OXBERRY, Comedim. 



BOSTON : 

rUBLISHED BT WELLS AND LILLY — COURT-STREET : 
A. T. GOODRICH & CO. — NBW-XORE. 

1823. 









♦ 



A? 9^ 



-2^ 



Mtmnvkn. 



THE CITIZEN. 



We have already more than once had occasion to speajc 
of Muiphy, and we meet him again with pleasure. It is 
true that he is not original, but how few authors are so ; 
there have been many more happy plagiarists for they have 
escaped detection, but none more dextrous, for tliey have 
not kneaded a better bread of the corn so borrowed from 
their neighbour's granary. The present is a very perilous 
age for authors of every class; a thousand critics lie in 
watch at every corner to detect and expose plagiarism ; the 
triumph is so sweet and so easy ; to write a play or a poem 
a man must have taste, or fancy, or feeling, or talent of 
some kind ; but the detector of plagiarisms has no need of 
any such gifts ; he has only to wade diligently through the 
dust of a library, exploring forgotten folios and neglected 
quartos, and he can bring to the attack an artillery too 
tremendous for a modern author. 

Murphy's school of farce is distinguished from its dra- 
matic brethren by superior elegance of language and sim- 
plicity of plot, or if it does rssemble the manner of any 



other author, it is most like to that of Moliere, from which, 
indeed, it seems to be a legitimate descendant ; yet still 
there is a striking difference between the two schools, 
though there may be something of a family likeness; Mo- 
liere in his gaiety is more courtlike and formal; he has in- 
finitely more wit than Murphy, but then he has much less 
humour, so that in the balance of accounts the scale re- 
mains with little or no bias on one side or the other. 

Still more does Murphy differ in his farces from those of 
the present day ; he does not borrow his interest from a 
complication of incidents, as is the usual case with the 
French minor writers ; nor does he try to excite his audi- 
tors to laughter by the loud grinning jests of the English 
school ; his characters have the seeds of the ridiculous in 
their very nature, and the fruit they bear is the natural 
product of the situation in which they are placed ; they 
are the fair honest growth of the climate, not the forced 
growth of the hot-house. 

These remarks are applicable to all Murphy''s writings, 
without exception, but more particularly so to the Citizen ; 
this elegant, and we may almost call it perfect, little d^i- 
ma approaches so closely upon real comedy, that it can 
hardly be said to differ from it in any circumstance but the 
number of its acts. The characters of the father and son, 
old and young Philpot, are set forth with a masterly hand. 
So fresh, indeed, are the colours, so true to life in their 
general rather than individual form, that they might very 
well pass for portraits of the present day. Their meeting 
and discovery in the house of the courtezan is as admirable 
for its language as for its incidents ; and, without injustice 
to the one author or partiality to the other, may be honest- 
ly put in competition with the more celebrated screen scene 
in the School for Scandal. It is not only excellent as be- 



ing in its individual parts a just portrait of nature, but as a 
perfect specimen of the dramatic ait in its combinations. 
Both these cliaracters, as well as that of the gay volatile 
Maria, have been of infinite use to many a modern farce- 
writer; the copies of them have been numerous, and of all 
kinds, bad, good, and indifferent, till one might be almost 
tempted to believe the art of multiplying originals was not 
confined to engravers only. These copies most frequently 
err on the side of exaggeration ; and to hide these thefts 
more effectually they have retouched some of the features 
till they have painted up the good-looking modest original 
into a Saracen's head, and that which was a picture for a 
drawing-room becomes fit for nothing else than to swing as 
a sign on the post of a countiy inn. But this is a malady 
most incident to the present day, which is too fond of deal- 
ing with the deformities of social life, while Murphy only 
played with its failings ; a hump back or a wen are much 
better jokes with us than the follies of mind or education. 
A modern audience must be made to laugh, at whatever 
expense of truth or reason, or the author will be charged 
with dulness, an imputation of all others the most fatal to 
his pretensions. Folly is the prevailing fashion of the day, 
and an author, who rejects it, stands as little chance of be- 
ing a favourite with the public, as a candidate would for 
Almacks, who should claim admission in the language of 
-grammar and common sense. 



arimr of lir}jrrsrntattott. 



The time this piece takes in representation, is near- 
ly two hours. 



Stage Directions. 



By R.H. ----- is meant ----- Right Hand. 

L.H. - — .._..------- Left Hand. 

g.E. ..-.------- — -- Second Entrance. 

U.E. Upper Entrance. 

M.D. -_.--.--. Middle Door. 

D.F. — — - — Door in Flat. 

B.H.D. — --. — -.-- — - Right Hand Door- 
I<.H.D. -------------- Left Hand Dotnr^ 



By Old Phijlpot and George Philpot. 



I 

I 



0M Fhil. Oh ! George, George, George ! 'tis such"J 
young rakes as you. 
That bring vile jokes, and foul dishonour too, 
Upon our city youth. 

G, Phil. 'Tis very true. J 

Old Pkil. St. James' end o'th' town— 

G. Phil. No place for me. 

Old Phil, No truly — no — their manners disagree 
With ours entirely— yet you there must run, 
To ape their follies — 

G. Phil. And so am undone. 

Old Phil. There you all learn a vanity in Tice, 
You turn mere fops — you game 

G. Phil. Oh damn the dice. 

Old Phil. Bubbled at play— 

G. Phil. Yes, sir— 

Old Phil. By every common cheat. 

G. Phil. Ay ! here's two witnesses — 

{Pulls out his Pockets.) 

Old Phil. You get well beat. 

G. Phil, A witness too of that, — {Shtws his head.) — and 
there's another. {To Young Wilding.) 

Old Phil. You dare to give affronts — 

G. Phil. Zounds such a pother I — 

Old Phil. Affronts to gentlemen ! 

G. Phil. 'Twas a rash action — 

Old Phil, Dam'me, you lie ! I'll give you satisfaction. 

{■Mimithmg.) 
Drawn in by strumpets, and detected. toe! 



8 EPILOGUE. 

G. Phil. That's a sad thing, sir ! I'll be judg'd by you — 

Oid Phil. The dog he has me there — 

G, Phil. Think you it right— 

Uni'er a table — 

Old Phil. Miserable plight ! 

G. Phil. For grave threescore to skulk with trembling 
knees, 
And envy each young lover that he sees ! 
Think you it fitting thus abroad to roam? 

Old Phil. Wou'd I had stay'd to cast accounts at home. 

G, Phil. Ay ! tliere's another vice — 

Old Phil. Sirrah give o'er. ^ 

G. Phil.You brood for ever o'er your much lov'd store, y 
And scraping cent, per cent, still pine for more. \ 

At Jonathan's, where millions are undone, 
Now cheat a nation, and now cheat your son. 

Old Phil. Rascal enough ! 

G. Phil. 1 could add, but am loth — 

Old Pidl. Enough !— this jury— ( Jfa the Audience.) — 
vi'ill convict us both. 

G. Phil. Then to the court we'd better make submission. 
Ladies and gentlemen, witli true contrition, 
I here repent my faults — ye courtly train. 
Farewell : — farewell, ye giddy and ye vain ! 
I now take up — forsake the gay and witty, 
To live henceforth a credit to the city. 

Old Phil. You see me here quite cover'd o'er with shame. 
I hate long speeches — But I'll do the same. 
Goir.e, George — To mend is all the best can boast. 

G. :<^hil. Then let us in 

Old ^hil. And this shall be our toast, 

M&y B.itain's thunder on her foes be hurl'd, 

G\ Fhil. And JLondon prove the market of the world t 



Costume, 



OLD PHILPOT. 

SnufT brewD old fashioned suit. 

YOUNG PHILPOT. 
First dress.— Extreme of fashion.— Second dress.— Green dres) cost, 
white waistcoat and breeches. 

SIR JASPER WILDIN'}. 
Scarlet coat, striped waistcoat, and white cord breeches. 

YOUNG WILDING. 
Blue coat, buff waistcoat and breeches. 

BEAUFORT. 
Ibid. 

DAPPER. 
Drab coloured cloth suit. 

quiLLDRlVB. 

Green coat, red waistcoat, and buff br-echss. 

SERVANTS. 
White and orange liveries. 

MARIA. 

Muslin frock, trimmed with satin ribbon and laoe. 

CORINNA 
Pink satin body, and leno petticaet) trimmed with laee and flawm. 



persons J^rprrsentcU, 



As it was Originally Acted, 1770. 

Drury Lane. Covent Garden, 
Old Philpot .----•- Mr. Baddeley. Mr, Shuter. 
2'ovng Philpot .•---.- Mr. Kinj;. Mr. Woodward. 

Sir Jfisper IVilding ----- Mr. Burton. Mr. Dunstall. 

Toum Wilding Mr. Lee. Mr, Dyer, 

Beaufort ------ -- Mr. Packer. Mr. Baker., 

Datiper --------- Mr. Vaughan. Mr Costello. 

Quil'drive -------- Mr. Ackman. Mr Peny. 

Maria ---.----- Miss Elliot. Mrs. Mattocks- 

Corinna --------- IMi-s. Hippisley. Miss Cockayne^ 

Drury Lane. Coroent Garden. 

Old Philpot Mr. Suett. Mr. Farren. 

Youn^ Philpot -------Mr Bannister. Mr. Jones. 

Sir Jasper Wit ding - - - - - Mr- Maddocks, Mr. Chapman, 

Toung Wilding ------ Mr. Decamp. Mr. Connor. 

Beaufort --- Mr. Fisher. Mr. Clarnient. 

Dapper --------- 

Quilldrtve -------- Mr. Atkins, 

Maria -..------ Mrs. Davison, Miss O'NeiH. 

Corinna .-.- Mrs. Scott. Miss Shaw. 



THE CITIZEN. 



ACT I. 

SCENE I.— A Room. 



Enter Young Wilding and Beaufort, l.h. Will 
following., who crosses behind to r.h. 

Wild Ha ! ha ! my dear Beautbit ! A fiery 
young fellow like you, melteii dowa into a sigh- 
ing love-sick dangler after a high heel, a well- 
turned ancle, and a short petticoat ! 

Beau. Prithee, Wilding, don't laugh at me — 
Maria"*.- charms — 

Wild. Maria's charms ! And so now you would 
fain grow wanton in her praise, and have me 
listen to your raptures ahout my own sister ! Ha ! 
ha ! poor Beaufort I — Is my sister at home, Will ? 

Will She is, sir 

Wild. How long has my father been gone out ? 

Will. This hour, sir. 

Wild. Very well. Pray give Mr. Beaufort's 
compliments to my sister, and he is come to wait 
upon her. — [Exit Will r.m.] — You will be glad 
to see her I suppose, Charles. 



n THE CITIZEN. 

Berfii. I live but in her presence. 

Wild. Live but in her presence ! How the 
devil con'd the young' bafifPfaafe raise this riot in 
your heart ? 'Tis more than her brother could 
ever do with any of her sex. 

Beau. Nay, you have no reason to complain ; 
you are come up to town, post-haste, to marry 
a wealthy citizen's daughter, who only saw you 
last season at Tunbrid^e, and has been languish- 
insf for you ever since. 

Wild. That's more than I do for her ; and to 
tell you the truth, more than I believe she does 
for me. — This is a match of prudence, man ! 
bargain and sale ! — My reverend dad and the old 
put of a citizen finished the business at Lloyd's 
Coffee-house by inch of candle — a mere trans- 
ferring of property! — "Give your son to my 
dau'>"hter. and I will g-ive my daugrhter to your 
son," That's the whole affair, and so 1 am just 
arrived to consummate the nuptials. 

Beau. Thou art the happiest fellow — 

Wild. Happy ! so I am. — What should I be 
otherwise for? If Miss Sally — upon my so';l I 
foraret her name. 

Beau. Well ! that is so like you — Miss Sally 
Phi I pot. 

Wild. Ay, very true ! — Miss Sally Pbilpot — 
she will bring fortune sufficient to pay off an old 
incumbrance upon the family-estate, and my fa- 
ther is to settle handsomely upon me — and so I 
have reason to be contented, have not I ? 

Beau. Pho ! this is all idle talk! and in the 
mean time I am ruined. 



THE CITIZEN. lo 

Wild. How so ? 

Bean. Why you know the old couple have 
bargained your Sister away. 

Wild. Bargained her away I And will you 
pretend you are ;n love? — Can you look tamely 
on, and see her bartered away at Garraway's like 
log-wood, cochineal, or indigo ?— Marry her pri- 
vately, man, and keep it a secret till my atfair 
is over. 

Beau My dear Wilding, will you propose it 
to her ? 

Wild. With all my heart. — She is very long 
a-coming ; — I'll tell you what, if she has a fancy 
for you, carry her off at once ; — but perhaps she 
has a mind to this cub of a citizen, Miss Sally's 
brother — 

Beau. On, no, he's her aversion. 

Wild. I haye never seen any of the family, 
but my wife that is to be. — What sort of a fellow 
is the son ? 

Beau. Oh ! a diamond of the first water ! a 
buck, sir, a blood ! every night at this end of 
the town ; at twelve next d;'.y he sneaks about 
the 'Change, and looks like a sedite book-keep- 
er in the eyes of all who behold him. 

Wild. Upon my word, a gentleman of spirit. 

Beau. Spirit ! — he drives four in hand, keeps 
his girl at the West End of the town, and is the 
gay George Philpot at the Clubs. 

Wild. Oh brave !— and the father?— 

Beau. The father, sir — But here comes Ma- 
ria ; take his picture from her. 

{She sings within, r.h.) 



14 THE CITIZEN. 

Wild. Hey! she is musical this morning'; she 
boi'^s her nsual spirits, 1 find. 

Beau. Yes, yes, the spirit of eighteen, with the 
idea of a lover in her head — 

Wild. Ay ! and such a lover as yon too ! though 
still in her teens, she can play upon all your 
foihies. and treat you as she does her monkey, 
tickle you, torment yon, enrage you, soothe you, 
exalt you, depress you, pity you, laugh at you— * 
Ecce signurn f 

Enter Maria, r.h. Singing. 

Wild. The same giddy girl ! — Sister ; come^ 
my dear — 

Mar. Have done, brother; let me have my 
Own way —I will go through my song. 

Wild. 1 have not seen you this age ; ask me 
how i do. 

Mar. I won't ask you how you do — I wont 
take ;<ny notice of you, 1 don't know you. 

Wild. Do you know this gentleman, then? 
■Will vou speak to him ? 

Mar. No, I wont speak to him ; I'll sing to 
him it's my humour to sing. (Sings.) 

Beau. He serious but for a moment, Maria ; 
my all depends upon it. 

Mar. Oh ! sweet sir, you are dying, are you ? 
Then positively I will sing the song; for it is a 
dfscription of yourself — mind it, Mr. Beaufort — 
mind it. - Brother how do you do ? — {Kisses him.) 
—Say nothing, don't interrupt me. (Sings.) 

Wild, have you seen your city lover yet? 



THE CITIZEN. IS 

Mar. No ; but 1 long to see him. 

Beau. Long to see liim, Maria ! 

Mar. Yes, long to see hitn — {Beaufort looks 
thoughtful.) — I'rolher, brother ! — {Goes to him 
softly., and beckons hiia to look at Beaufort.) — do 
you see that ? — [Miinicks him.) — mind bim ; ha, 
ha! 

Beau. Make me ridiculous if you will, Maria j 
so you donH make me unhappy, by marrymg 
this c tizen. 

Mar. And would not you have me marry, sir? 
What, I must lead a single lite to please you, 
must I ? Upon my word you are a pretty gentle- 
man to make laws for me. {Sings.) 

Can it be or by law or by equity said., 

7 hat a comely young girl ought to die an old maid. 

Wild. Come, come, Miss Pert, compose your- 
self a little. This will never do. 

Mar. My cross, ill-natured brother! but it uill 
do — Lord I what do you both call me hither to 
plague me ? I wont stay among ye — it rhoneur, 
d I honeur.! { Running away.) d Vhoneur — 

Wild. Hey, hey, vjjss Notable ! come back, 
pray madam, come back. {Forces her buck.) 

Mar. Lord ! what do you want ? 

Wild. Come, come, truce with your frolics, 
Miss Hoyden, and behave like a sensible girl ; 
we have serious buyiness with you. 

Mar. Have you ! Well, come, I will be sensi- 
ble — there, I blow all my UA\y away — 'Tis gone, 
'tis gone, and now Til talk sease : come — is that 
a sensible face ? 



16 THE CITIZEN. 

Wild. Pho, pho, be quiet, and hear what we 
have to say to you. 

Mar. I will, I am quiet. It is charming wea- 
ther ; it will be good for the country, this will. 

Wild, Pho, ridiculous ! how can yoa be so 
silly ? 

Mar. Bless me ! 1 never saw any thing like 
you. There is no such thing as satisfying you. 
I am sure it was very good sense what I said. 
Papa talks in that manner. Well, well ! I'll be 
silent then. I wont speak at all ; will that sa- 
tisfy you ? [Looks sullen.) 

iVild. Come, come, no more of this folly, but 

mind what is said to you. — You have not seen 

your city lover, you say ? [Maria skrugs her 

shoulders., and shakes her head.) 

Wild. Why don't you answer ? 

Beau. My dear Maria, put me out of pain. 

[Maria shrugs -her shoidders again.) 

Wild. Pho ! don't be so childish, but give a 
rational answer — 

Mar. Why, no, then ; no — no, no, no, no, no. 
— ! tell you no, no, no. 

Wild. Come, come, my little giddy sister, you 
must not be so flighty ; behave sedately, and don't 
be a girl always. 

Mar. Why, don't I tell you I have not seen 
him. But I am to see him this very day. 

Beau. To see him this day, Maria ? 

Mar. Ha, ha ! — look there, brother ; he is be- 
ginning again. But don't fright yourself, and I'll 
tell you all about it. My papa comes to me this 
morning — by the by, he makes a fright of him- 



THE CITIZEN". 17 

self with his strange dress. Why does not he 
dress as other gentlemen do, brother? 

Wild He dresses like his brother i'ox-hunters 
in Wiltshire. 

J\jor. But when he comes to town, I wish he 
would do iis other gentlemen do here. I am al- 
most ashamed ol" him. But he comes to me this 
inorning — ''• Hole ! hole ! our Moll. W^here is the 
sly puss ? i ally ho !" Did you want me, papa ? — 
Come hither. Moll I'll gee tht^e a husband, my 
girl ; one that has mettle enow — he'll take cover, 
1 wiri;ait DM — blood to the Bone. 

Beau. There now, Wilding, did not I tell you 
this? 

Wild. Where are you to see the young citi- 
zen? 

AUtr. Why, papa will be at home in an hour, 
and then he intends to drag- nie into the city w.th 
h.m, and there the sweet creature is to be intro- 
duced to me. The old gentleman, his father, is 
dfl'ghted with me, but 1 hate him, an old ugly 
thing. 

Wild Give us a descript.on of him ; I want to 
know him. 

Mar. Why he looks like the picture of Ava- 
rice sitting with pleasure upon a bng of money, 
and trembling for fear any body should come 
and lake it away he has got Sfiuare-toed shoes, 
and little tinv Inickles. a broun coat with small 
round brass buttons, that looks as if it was new 
in my gr'^at-grandniolhHr's time, and his face all 
shrivelied and pinclTd with care, and h^ shakes 
his head like a mandarine upon a chimney-piece. 



18 . THE CITIZEN. 

Ay, ay, Sir Jasper, you are right, and then he 
grins at me , I profess she is a very pretty bale 
of goods. Ay, ay, and my son George is a very 
sensible lad — ay ay! and I w'.U underwrite their 
happiness for one and a half per cent. 

Wild. Thank you, my dear girl ; thank you 
for this account of my relations. 

Beau. Destruction to my hopes ! Surely, my 
dear little angel, if you have any regard for 
me — 

Mar. There, there, there, he is frightened 
ggain. {Sings., Dearest creature, ^c.) 

Wild. Pshaw! give over these airs — listen to 
me, and I'll instruct you how to manage them 
all. 

Mar. Oh ! my dear brother, you are very 
good — but don't mistake yourself; though just 
come from a boarding school, give me leave to 
manage for myself — There is in this case a man 
I like, and a man I don't like — it is not you I like 
(^To Beaufort.) — no — no — I hate you. — But let 
this little head alone ; I know what to do — I shall 
know how to prefer on«, and get rid of the other. 

Beau. What will you do, Maria ? 

Mar. Ha, ha, I can't help laughing at you. 

{Sings.) 

Do not grieve me, 
Oh ! relieve me, ^c. 

Wild. Come, come, be serious, Miss Pert, and 
I'll instruct you what to do. The old cit, you 
say, admires you for your understanding, and his 



THE CITIZEN. 1^ 

son would not marry you unless he found you a 
girl of sense and spirit ? 

Mar. Even so — this is the character of your 
giddy sister. 

Wild. Why then, I'll tell you — you shall make 
him hate you for a fool, and so let the refusal 
come from him. 

Mar. But how — how my dear brother ? Tell 
me how ? 

Wild. Why, you have seen a play with me, 
where a man pretends to be a downright coun- 
try oaf, in order to rule a wife and have a wife. 

Mar. Very well — what then ? what then ? — 
Oh — I have it — I understand you — say no more 
— 'tis charming ; 1 like it of all things; I'll do it, 
I will ; and I will so plague him, that he shan't 
know what to make of me — He shall be a very 
toad-eater to me ; the sour, the sweet, the bitter, 
he shall swallow all, and all shall work upon him 
alike for my diversion. Say nothing of it — it's 
all among ourselves ; but I won't be cruel. I 
hate ill-nature, and then who knows but I may 
like him ? 

Beau. My dear Maria, don't talk of liking 
him — 

Mar. Oh ! now you are beginning again. 

[sings.1 Voi Jimanti^ ^c. and exit^ r.h. 

Beau. 'Sdeath, Wilding I shall never be your 
brother-m-law at this rate. 

Wild. Pshaw, follow me ; don't be apprehen- 
sive — I'll give her farther instructions, and she 
will execute them, i warrant you ; the old fel- 
low's daughter shall be mine, and the son may 
go shift for himself elsewhere. [Exeunt^ r.h. 



20 THE CITIZEN. 



SCENE n.—Old Philpot's House. 

Enter Quili.drtve, l.h. crossing to r.h. Georgk 
Philpot, peeping in, l.h. 

G Phil. Hist, hi?t! -Qmlldrive ? 

Quill. H;i, Master Georare! — 

G. Phil. Is square-toes at home ? 

Q^iiill. ' e is. 

G. hil. Has he asked for me? 

quill. He lias. 

G. Phil. (Walks in on tip-toe ) Does he know 
I did not sleep at home ? 

Q'lill. No ; i sunk that upon hira. 

G. Phil. Well done; Til afive ^-oii a choice 
gelding to carry you to D Iwich of a Sunday. 
Damnation! — up ail n^ght — stripped of nme 
hundred pounds — pretty well for one night!— 
Picqued, repscqued, tlamm'd, and capotted every 
deal ! — Old Dry-beard shall pay all — Is forty- 
seven good? no — fifty gooii? no?- no, no, no— - 
to the end of the chapter — Cruel luck! — Damn 
me, it's life tho' — thi* is life- 'sdeath ! I hear 
hini coming. (Runs off and peeps J) - no, alPs safe 
— I must not be caught in these cloaths, Quill- 
drive. 

q>iill. How came it you did not leave them at 
Manam Coruina's, as yon generally du ? 

G. Phil. I was afraid of being too late for 'id 
Square-toes, and so I whipt mlo a hackney* 
couch, and drove with the w.ndows up, as <! I 
was afraid of a bumbaiiey, — Pretty ciuaths, an't 
they / 



THE CITIZEN. 21 

Qui//. Ah ! sir — 

G. Fhil. Reach me one of my mechanic city 
frocks — no — stay — it's in the next room, an't 
it— 

Quill. Yes, sir — 

G. Phil. I'll run and slip it on in a twinkle. 

[Exit, D.F. 

Quill. Mercy on us ! what a life does he lead? 
Old Coger within here will scrape together for 
him, and the moment young master comes to 
possession, " 111 got ill gone,'' 1 warrant me : a 
hard card I have to play between 'em both — 
drudging for the old man, and pimping for the 
young one. The father is a reservoir of riches, 
and the son is a fountain to play it all away in 
vanity and folly ! 

Re-enter George PHiLPOT,y>om d.f. 

G. Phil. Now I'm equipped for the city. Damn 
the city ! I wish the Papishes would set lire to 
it again. I hate to be beating the hoof here 
among them — Here comes father — no; — its 
Dapper — Quilldrive, I'll give you the gelding. 

Qitill. Thank you, sir. [Exit., l.h. 

G. Phil. Who now in ray situation would envy 
any of your great folks at the Court End! A 
Lord has nothing to depend upon but his estate. 
He can't spend you a hundred thousand pounds 
of other people's money — no — no — 1 had rather 
be a little bob-wig citizen, in good credit, than 
a commissioner of the customs — commissioner ! 
— The King has not so good a thing in his gift., 
3 



22 THE CITIZEN. 

as a commission of" bankruptcy. Don't we see 
Ihem all with their country seats at Hoxlon, 
and at Kentish-town, and at Newington-butts, 
and at Islington ; with their little flying Mer- 
curys' tipt upon the top of the house, their 
Apollos, their Venus's, and their leaden Her- 
cules's in the garden ; and themselves sitting 
before the door with pipes in their mouth's, 
waiting for a good digestion — [Old Phil, speaks, 
laithout, R.H.) — Zoons ! here comes old dad; now 
for a iew dry maxims of left-handed wisdom, to 
prove myself a scoundrel in sentiment, and pass 
in his eyes for a hopeful young man likely to do 
well in the world. 

Enter Old Philpot, r.h. 

Old Phil. Twelve times twelve is 144. 

(^Jlside.^ 

G. Phil. I'll attack him in his own way — Com- 
mission at two and a half per cent. (^Aside ) 

Old Phil. There he is, intent upon business .' 
(^Aside.) What, plodding, George ? 

G. Phil. Thinking a little of the main chance, 
sir. 

Old Phil. That's right; it is a wide world, 
George. 

G. Phil. Yes, sir, but you instructed me early 
in the rudiments of trade. 

Old Phil. Ay, ay ! I instill'd good principles 
into thee. 

G. Phil. So you did, sir. Principal and inter- 
est is all I ever heard from him. (Aside.) — I 



THE CITIZEN. 23 

shall never forget the story you recommended to 
my earliest notice, sir. 

Old Phil. What was that, George ? — It is quite 
out of my head — 

G. Phil It intimated, sir, how Mr. Thomas 
Inkle, of London, merchant, was cast away, and 
was afterwards protected by a young lady, who 
grew in love with him ; and how he after- 
wards bargamed with a planter to sell her for a 
slave. 

Old Phil. Ay, ay, (^Laughs.) I recollect it 
now. 

G. Phil. And when she pleaded being with 
child by him, he was no otherwise moved than 
to raise his price, and make her turn better to 
account. 

Old Phil. (^Bursts into a laugh.) I remember 
it — ha, — ha ! there was the very spirit of trade ! 
ay — ay — ha, ha, ha ! 

G. Phil. That was calculation for you. 

Old Phil. Ay, ay. 

G. Phil. Tlie Rule of three — If one gives me 
so much ; vvhat will two give me ? 

Old Phil. Ay, ay. (^Laughs.) 

G. Phil. Rome was not built in a day — For- 
tunes are made by degrees — Pains to get, care 
to keep, and fear to loose. 

Old Phil. Ay, ay, the good boy. 

G. Phil. The old Curmudgeon. {Jiside.) 

Old Phil. The good boy ! George, I have great 
hopes of thee. 

G. Phil, j'hanks to your example ; you have 
taught me to be cautious in this wide world — 



24 THE CITIZEN. 

Love your neighbour, but don't pull down your 
heds^e. 

Old Pi it I profess it is a wise saying— 1 never 
heard it before ; it is a wise saying ; and shews 
how cautious we should be of too much confi- 
dence in friendship. 

G.Pkil. Very true. 

Old Phil. Friendship has nothing to do with 
trade. 

G. Phil. It only draws a man in to lend money. 

Old Phil. Ay, ay— 

G. Phil, (here was your neighbour's son, 
Dicic Worthy, who was always cramramg his 
head with Greek and Latin at school ; he want- 
ed to borrow of me the other day, but i was 
too cunning. 

Old Phil. Ay, ay — Let him draw bills of ex- 
change in Greek and Latin, and see where he 
will get a pound sterling for them. 

G. Phil. So I told him — I went to him to his 
garret, in the Minories ; and there I found him 
in all his misery and a tine scene it was — 
There was his wife in a corner of the room, at 
a waslung tul), up to the elbows in suds ; a soli- 
tary pork-steak was danghng by a bit of pack- 
thread, before a melancholy fire; himself seat- 
ed at a three-legg'd table, writing a pamphlet 
against the German war; a child upon his left 
knee, his right leg employed in rocking a cradle 
with a brattling in it — And so there was busi- 
ness enough for them all — His wife rubbing 
away, (^Mi/nicks a washer woman.) and he wri- 
ting on, " the king of Prussia shall have no 



THE CITIZEN. 25 

'• more subsidies ; Saxony shall be indemnified 
" — he shan't have a foot in Silesia." There is 
a sweet little baby ! (^To the child on his knee.) 
then he rockM the cradle, hush ho I hush ho I 
— then twisted the ^riskin, (^Snaps his fingers.) 
hush ho! "•The Russians shall have Prussia," 
{^IVrites.) The wife {^Washes and sings.) he — 
" There's a dear." Round goes the griskin 
again, (Snaps his fingers ) " and Canada must be 
restord." ( fVrites.) — And so you have a picture 
of the whole family. 

Old Phil. Ha, ha ! What becomes of his 
Greek and Latin now? Fine words butter no 
parsnips — He had no money from you, i sup- 
pose, George ? 

G. Phil. Oh ! no ; charity begins at home, 
says I. 

Old Phil. And it was wisely said — I have an 
excellent saying when any man wants to bor- 
row of me — I am ready with my joke — " a fool 
and his money are soon parted'' — ha, ha, ha ! 

G. Phil. Ha, ha— An old skin-Hint. (Aside.) 

Old Phil. Ay, ay — a fool and his money are 
soon parted — ha, ha, ha ! 

G. Phil. Now if I can wring a handsome sum 
out of him, it will prove the truth of what he 
says. (Aside.) And yet trade has its inconve- 
niences-Great houses stopping payment ! 

Old Phil. Hey — what ! you look chagrined ! 
— Nothing of that sort has happened to thee, I 
hope ? 

3* 



26 THE CITIZEN. 

G. Phil. A great house at Cadiz — Don Joha 
de Alvarada — ' he Spanish Galleons not making 
quick returns — and so mj bills are come back. 

Old Phil. Ay I — (Shakes his head.) 

G Phil. I have indeed a remittance from 
Messina. That voyage yields me thirty per cent. 
profit — But this blow coming upon me — 

Old Phil. Why this is unlucky — how much 
money ? 

G Phil Three and twenty hundred. 

Old Phil. George, too many eggs in one 
basket; I'll tell thee, George, I expect Sir Jas- 
per VVilding here presently to conclude the 
treaty of marriage I have on foot for thee : then 
hush this up, and say nothing of it. and in a day 
or two you pay these bills with his daughter's 
portion. 

G. Phil. The old rogue. {Aside.) That will 
never do, I shall be blown upon Change — Alva- 
rada will pay in time — He has opened his affairs 
— He appears a good man. 

Old Phil. Does he ? 

G. Phil. A great fortune left ; will pay in 
time, but I must crack before that. 

Old Phil. It is unlucky ! A good man, you say 
he is? 

G. Phil. No body better. 

Old Phil. Let me see — Suppose I lend this 
money ? 

G. Phil. Ah, sir. 

Old Phil. How much is your remittance from 
Messina ? 

G. Phil. Seven hundred and fifty. 



THE CITIZEN. 27 

Old Phil. Then you want fifteen hundred and 
fifty. 

G. Phil. Exactly. 

Old Phil. Don Alvarada is a good man, you 
say ? 

G. Phil. Yes, sir. 

Old Phil. 1 will venture to lend the money. 
— You must allow me commission upon those 
bills for taking them up for honour of the 
drawer. 

G. Phil. Agreed. 

Old Phil. Lawful interest, while I am out of 
my money. 

G. Phil. I subscribe. 

Old I'hil. \ power of attorney to receive the 
anonies from Alvarada, when he makes a pay- 
ment. 

G. Phil. You shall have it. 
Old Phil. Your own bond ? 
G. Phil. To be sure. 

Old Phil. Go and get me a check. You shall 
have a draught on the bank. 

G. Phil. Yes, sir. (Going., l.h.) 

Old Phil. But stay — I had ibrgot — 1 must sell 
out for this — Stocks are under par — you must 
pay the difference. 

G. Phil Was ever such a leech. (^Jlside.) By 
all means, sir. 

Old Phil. Step and get me a check. 
G. Phil. A fool and his money are soon part- 
ed. (Aside.) [Exit, l.h. 



fi8 THE CI T^IZ^X. 

Old Phil. What witii commisqion, lawful in- 
terpst, and his pavin<? the dilTcreiice of the 
stocks, which are higher now than when I 
bnn-jfht in this will be no bnd morning's work ; 
and then in the t'venma:, ' ''hill be ,n the rarest 
spirits r)r th« new adventnre I am recommended 
to. '.et me see-— w'lat is the lad}'''s name. 
(^T kes a letter out.) Corinna ! ay, ay, by the de- 
scription she is a bale of goods. 

Enter Q,ui! ldrive, l.h. 

Quill. Sir Jasper Wilding-, sir, and his daugh- 
ter 
Old Phil. I am at home. 

Enter Sir Jasper, l.h. singing and Maria. 

Oil Phil. Sir Jasper, your very humble ser- 
vant. 

Sir Jasp. Master Piiiipot, I be glad to zee 
ye, I am indeed. 

Old Phil. The Idee compliment to you. Sir 
Jasper. M ss Vlar.a. I k.ss your fair hand. 

Mar. Sir, your most obedient. 

Sir Jasp. Ay ay, 1 h.i brought un to zee you 
— my gii"! — I ben't ashanM of my girl. 

Mar. That's more than I can say of my fa- 
ther. (Aside.) 

Old Phil. Truly she is a blooming young lady. 
Sir Ja«per, and I verily shall like to take a.i in- 
terest in her. 

.Sir Jasp. 1 ha' brought her to zee ye, and zo 
jouv zon may ha' her as soon as he will. 



THE CITIZEN. 29 

Old Phil. Why, she looks three and a hall' 
per cent, better than when I saw her last. 

Mar. Then there is hopes that in a little 
time, I shall be above par — he rates me like a 
lotterj-ticket. (^Jlside.) 

Old Phil. Ay, ay, I doubt not, Sir Jasper : Miss 
has the appearance of a very sensible, discreet 
yoting lady ; and to deal treely, without that she 
would not do for my son. — George is a shrewd 
lad, and i have often heard him declare, no con- 
sideration should ever prevail on him to marry 
a fool. 

Mar. Ay, you have told me so before, old gen- 
tleman, — I have my cue from my brother ; and 
if I don't soon give master George a surfeit of 
me, why then 1 am not a notable girl. (^Aside.) 

Enter George Philpot, r.h. 

G. Phil. A good clever old cuff this — after my 
own heart — I think I'll have his daughter, if it's 
only for the pleasure of hunting with him. 

(^Aside.) 

Sir Jasp. Zon-in-law, gee us your hand — What 
say you ? Are you ready for my girl ? 

G. Phil. Say grace as soon as you will, sir. Til 
fall too. 

Sir Jasp. Well zaid — I like you — I like un 
master Philpot — 1 like un — I'll tell you what, let 
un talk to her now. 

Old Phil. And so he shall — George, she is a 
bale of goods ; speak her fair now, and then you'll 
be in cash. {Aside to G. Phil.) 



30 THE CITIZEN. 

G. Phil. I think I had rather not speak to her 
now — I hate speaking to these modest women — 
Sir, — Sir, a word m your ear ; had not ! better 
break my mind, by advertising for her in a news- 
paper ? {Jlside to Old Phil.) 
G. Phil 'f"aik sense to her, George, she is a 
notable girl — and I'll give the draft upon the 
bank presently. (Aside to G. Phil.) 
Sir Jasp. Come along, master Philpol — come 
along; 1 ben't atVaid ot' my girl- come along. 

\ Exeunt Sir Jasp. and Old Phil, x.h.) 

Mar. A pretty sort of a lover they have fonnd 
for me. [Jlside.) 

G Phil. How shall I speak my mind to her? 
She is almost a stranger to me. (Aside.) 

Mar. Now V\{ make the hideous thing hate 
me if I can. [Aside.) 

G. Phil. Ay, she is as sharp as a needle, i war- 
rant her. (^Aside.) 

Mar. \h,you frisfht ? You rival Mr. Beaufort ! 
I'll give him an averion to me, that's what I will ; 
and so let him have the trouble of breaking off 
the match : not a word yet, — he is in a tine con- 
fusion (^Aside — Looks foolish. ) I think I may as 
well sit down, sir. 

G. Phil. Ma'am— 1— I— I— (FngA/crf.i — ril 
hand you a chair, ma'am there ma'am. 

(^Bows awkwardly.) 

Mar. Sir, I thank you. 

G. Fhil. I'll sit down too. (^In confusion.) 

Mar. ileiglm ! 

G. Phil. Ma'am ! 

Mar. Sir! 



THE CITIZEN. 31 

G. Phil I thought — I— I — I — did not you say 
something ma'am ? 

Mar. No, sir ; nothing. 

G. Pliil I beg your pardon, ma'am. 

Mar. Oh ! you are a s<veet creature. (^Aside.) 

G. Phil. The ice is broke now ; I have begun, 
and so I'll go on. 

(^Sits silent., foolish., and steals a look at her.) 

Mar. An agreeable interview this ! 

G. Phil. Pray, ma'am, do you ever go to con- 
certs ? 

Alar. Concerts ! what's that, sir? 

G. Phil. A music meeting. 

AJar. I have been at a Quaker's meeting ; but 
never at a music meeting. 

G. Phil. Lord ma'am, all the gay world goes 
to concerts — She notable ! I'll take courage, she 
is nobody. (^Aside.) VVillyougive me leave to pre- 
sent you a ticket for Willis's ? 

Mar. (^Looking simply and awkward.) — A tick- 
et — what's a ticket. 

G. Phil. There, ma'am, at your service. 

Mar. {Curtseys awkwardly.) I long to see what 
a ticket is. 

G. Phil. What a curtsey there is for the St. 
James's end of the town ! 1 hate her; she seems 
to be an idiot. {Aside.) 

Mar. Here's a charming ticket he has given 
nic. {Aside.) And is this a ticket, sir ? 

G. Phil. Ves, ma'am — And is this a ticket. 

{Miniicks her aside.) 

Mar. {Reads.) For sale by the candle, the fol- 
lowing goods — thirty chests straw hats — tifty tubs 



32 THE CITIZEN. 

chip hats— rpepper, sago, borax — ha — ha ! Such 
a ticket ! 

G. Phil. I — I -I — have made a mistake, ma'am 
— here, here is the right one. 

Mar. You need not mind it, sir, — I never go 
to such places. 

G. Phil. No, ma'am — I don't know what to 
make of her — Was you ever at the White-Con- 
duit-house ? 

Mar. There's a question. {Aside.) Is that a 
nobleman's seat? 

G. Phil. {Laughs.) Simpleton ! — No miss — is 
it not a nobleman's seat — Lord ! it's at Islmgton. 

Mar. Lord Ishngton ! — 1 don't know my Lord 
Islington. 

G. Phil. The town of Islington. 

Mar. I have not the honour of knowing his 
Lordship. 

G. Phil. Islington is a town, ma'am. 

Mar. Oh ! it's a town. 

G. Phil. Yes, ma'am. 

Mar. 1 am glad of it. 
- G.Phil. What IS she glad of? What shall I say 
to her next? Have you been at the burletta, 
ma'am ? {Aside.) 

Mar. Where ? 

G. Phil. The burletta. 

Mar. Sir, I would have you to know that I am 
no such person — 1 go to burlettas ! 1 am not 
what you take me for. 

G. Phil. Ma'am— 

Mar. I'm come of good people, sir ; and have 
been properly educated as a young girl ought 
to be. 



THE CITIZEN. 33 

G. Phil. What a damoM fool she is. (^Aside.) — 
The burletta is an opera, ma'am. 

Mar. Opera, sir ! I don't know what you mean 
by this usage — to affront me in this manner ! 

G. Phil. Affront ! I mean quite the reverse, 
maam ; I took you for a connoisseur. 

Mar. Who ! me a connoisseur, sir ! I desire 
you wont call me such names; 1 am sure I never 
so much as thought of such a thing. Sir, I wont 
be calfd a connoisseur — I went — I wont — I wont. 

(^Bursts out a crying.) 

G. Phil. Ma'am, I mean't no offence — A con- 
noisseur is a virtuoso. 

Mar. Don't virtuoso me ! I am no virtuoso, 
sir, ! would have you to know it — I am as virtu- 
ous a girl as any in England, and I will never be 
a virtuoso. (^Cries bitterly.) 

G. Phil. But, ma'am, you mistake me quile. 

Mar. (//I a passion., choaking her tears and sob- 
bing.) Sir, I am come of as virtuous people as 
any in England — My iamily was always remark- 
able for virtue — My mamma (Sobbing.) was as 
good a woman a.s ever was born, and my aunt 
Bridget (Sobbing.) was a virtuous woman too — 
And there's ray sister Siphy makes as good and 
as virtuous a wife as any at all — And so, sir, don't 
call me a virtuoso — I wont be brought here to be 
treated in this manner, 1 wont — i wont — I wont. — 

(Gries bitterly.) 

G Phil. The girl's a natural — So much the 
better. I'll marry her, and lock her up (Aside.^ 
— Ma'am, upon my wo-'d you misunderstand me. 

Mar. Sir, (Drying her tears.) 1 wont be called 
4 



34 THE CITIZEN. 

connoisseur by you nor any body — And I am no 
virtuoso- V(\ have you to know that. 

G. Phil. Ma'am, connoisseur and virtuoso are 
words for a person of taste. 

I[]ar. Taste ! {Sobbing.) 

G. Phil. Yes, ma'am. 

Mar. And did you mean to say as how I am a 
person of taste ? 

G. Phil. Undoubtedly. 

Mar. Sir, your most obedient humble servant. 
Oh ! that's another thmg - I have a taste to be 
sure. 

G. Phil. I know you have, ma'am. — O you're 
a cursed ninny. {Aside.) 

Mar. Yes, I know I have — I can read tolera- 
bly ; and I begin to write a little. 

G. Phil. Upon my word, you have made a great 
progress ! — What could old Square * oes mean 
by passing her upon me for a sensible girl? And 
what a fool I was to be afraid to speak to her — 
I'll talk to her openly at once — Come, sit down, 
miss. {Aside.) — Pray ma'am, are you inclined to 
matrimony ? 

Mar. Yes, sir. 

G. Phil. Are you in love ? 

Mar. Yes, sir. 

G. Phil. These naturals are always amorous. 
{Aside) How should you like me ? 

Mar. Of all things— 

G, Phil. A girl without ceremony. {Aside.) Do 
you love me? 

Mar. "V es, sir. 

O. Phil. But you don't love any body else ? 



THE CITIZEN. 36 

Mar. Yes, sir. 

G. Phil. Frank and free. (^Aside.) But not so 
well as me ? 

Mar. Yes, sir. 

G. t'hil. Better may be ? 

iliar. Yes, sir. 

G. Phil. ! he devil you do ! [Aside.) And, per- 
haps, if I should marry you, I should have a 
chance to be made a — 

Mar. Yes, sir. 

G. Phil, i he case is clear. Miss Marii, your 
yery humble servant ; you are not for my money, 
I promise you. 

Mar. Sir! 

G. Phil. I have done, ma'am, that's all, and I 
take my leave. 

A]ar. But you'll marry me ? 

G. Phil. No, ma'am, no ; — no such thing. — 
You may provide yourself a husband elsewhere, 
I am your humlde servant. 

Mar. Not marry me, Mr. Philpot ? — But you 
must — my papa said you must.— And I will have 
you. 

G. Phil. There's another proof of her non- 
sense {Aside.) Make yourself easy, for i shall 
have nothing to do with you. 

Mar. Not marry me, Mr. Philpot? (Bursts out 
in tears.) but I say you shall, and I will have a 
hu-band, or I'll know the reason why — You 
shall - You shall — 

(i. Phil. A pretty sort of a wife they intend 
for me here. 

Mar. 1 wonder you a'n't ashamed of yourself 



36 THE CITIZEN. 

to affront a young girl in this manner. PU go 
and tell my papa — 1 will — 1 will — I will. 

{Crying bitterly.) 

G. Phil. And so you may — I have no more to 
say to you — and so your servant, miss — your 
servant. 

Mar. Ay ! and by goles ! my brother Bob shall 
fight you. 

G. Phil. What care I for your brother Bob? 

{Going.) 

Mar. How can you be so cruel, Mr. Philpot? 
how can you — oh — {Cries and striiggles with him.) 
[Exit G. Phil. R.H.J Ha ! ha ! I have carried my 
brother's scheme into execution charmingly; 
ha ! ha ! He will break off the match now of 
his own accord — Ha! ha! This is charming; 
this is fine ; this is like a girl of spirit. [Exit. l.h. 

END OF ACT I. 



ACT II. 

SCENE \.—Corinna's House. 

Enter Corinna, r.h. Tom following her. 

Cor. An elderly gentleman, did you say ? 
Tom. Yes; that says he has got a letter for 
vou, maam. 



THE CITIZEN. 37 

Cor. Desire the gentleman to walk up stairs. 

[hxit^i L.H. 

Enter Old Philpot, l.h. 

Cor. Servant, sir. 

Old Phil. Fair lady, your very humble ser- 
vant. Truly a blooming- young girl ' Madams I 
have a letter here for you from Bob Poacher, 
whom, I presume, you know. 

Cor. Yes, sir, I know Bob Poacher. — He is a 
very good friend of mine. (^Reads to herself.) He 
speaks so handsomely of yon, sir, and sa}s you 
are so much of the gentleman, that, to be sure, 
sir, I shall endeavour to be agreeable, sir. 

Old Phil Really you are very agreeable. You 
see I am punctual to ray hour. 

{Looks at his watch.) 

Cor. That is a mighty pretty watch, sir. 

Old Phil. Yes, madam, it is a repeater; it has 
been in our family for a long time. This is a 
mighty pretty lodging. 1 have twenty guineas 
here in a purse, here they are ; [Turns them out 
upon the table.) as pretty golden rogues as ever 
fair fingers play'd with. 

Cor. 1 am always agreeable to any thing from 
a gentleman. 

Old I hil. There are some light guineas among 
them — i always put ofi' my light guineas in this 
way {Aside) — You are exceedingly welcome, 
madam. Your fair hand looks so tempting, I 
must kiss it — Oh ! I could eat it up Fair lady, 
your lips look so cherry— 1 hey actually invite 
4 * 



;)8 THE CITIZEN. 

the touch ; {Kisses.) really it makes the differ- 
«nce of cent, per cent, in one's constitution- Oh 
you little delicate, charming — [Kisses her.) 

G Phil. {Within, L.H.) Gee-houp ! — Awhi ! — 
Aw 111 I Gallows! Awhi! 

Old. Phil. Hey— What is all that?— Somebody 
corning' ! 

Cor. Some young rake, I fancy, coming in 
whether my servants will or no. 

Old. Phil. Whfit shall f do ?— I wouhl not be 
seen for the world — Can't you hide me in that 
room? 

Cor. Dear heart! no, sir — These wild young 
fellows take such liberties — He may take it into 
his head to go in there, and then you will be 
detected. — Get under the table- He shan't re- 
main long whoever he is — Here — Here, sir, get 
under here. 

Old Phil. Ay, ay ; that will do— Don't let him 
stay long — Give me another buss — Wounds ! I 
could — 

Cor. Hush ! — Make haste. 

Old Phil. Ay; ay ; I will, fair lady [Creeps 

under the table and peeps out.) Don't let him stay 
long. 

Cor. Hush ! silence ! you will ruin all else. 

Eiiter G. Philpot, l.h. 

G. Phil. Sharper to your work — Awhi! awhi! 
So my girl — how dost do? 

Cor. Very well, thank you — I did not expect 
to see you so soon — I thought you was to be at 
the club? 



THE CITIZEN. a& 

G. Phil. No ; the run was against me agaiD, 
and I did not c;ire to pursue ill fortune. But 1 
am strong in c;i.sh, m_y girl. 

Cor. Are you? 

G. Phil. Yes, yes — Suskins in plenty. 

Old Phil. (Aside — peeping.) Ah the ungraci- 
ous ! These are your haunts, are they ? 

Ci. Phil. Yes, yes; I am strong in cash — I have 
taken in the old curmudgeon since 1 saw you. 

Cor. As how, pray ? 

Old Phil. [Aside peeping out.) Ay^, as how ; let 
us hear, pray. 

G. Phil. Why, I'll tell you. I talkM a world of 
wisdom to him-tijit him a few rascally sentiments 
of a scoundrelly kind of prudence ; and then he 
took a liking to me. — Ay, ay, says he, ay, friend- 
ship has nothing to do with trade.—George, thou 
art a son after my own heart ; — A fool and his 
money are soon parted. [Mimicking him.) and so, 
on he went, like Harlequin in a French comedy, 
tickling himself into a good humour, till, at last, 
I tickled him out of fifteen hundred and odd 
pounds. — Oh ! 1 understand trap — 1 talked of a 
great house stopping payment — The thing was 
true enough, but I had no dealing with them. 

Old Phil. [Aside.) Ay, ay. 

G. Phil. And so, for fear of breaking off a 
match with an idiot he wants me to marry, he 
lent me the money, and cheated me though. 

Old Phil. [Aside.) Ay, you have found it out, 
have ye 1 

G. Phil. Pho I he is an old curmudgeon ; and 



40 THE CITIZEN. 

so I will talk no more about him. Come, give 
me a kiss. {^ hey /cm.) 

Old Phil. (^Aside.) The young dog, how he 
fastens his lips to her ! 

G. Phil. You shall go with me to Epsom next 
Sunday. 

Cor. Shall I? That's charming. 

G. Phil. You shall, in my chariot — I drive. 

Cor. But I dofft like to see you drive. 

G. Phil. But i like it, I am as good a coach- 
man as any in England. There was my lord — 
What d'ye call him — Drove tour in hand — but, 
lord ! he was nothing to me. 

Cor. No ! 

G. Piiil. Oh, no — I know my road work, my 
girl.— Throw my eyes about a few-r-Handle the 
braces — Take the ofT-leader by the jaw — Here 
you, how have you curbed this horse up ? — Let 
him out a link, do you rascal — Whoo Eh! — 
Jewel — Button! — Whoo Eh! — Come here, you 
sir; how have you coupled Gallows? you know 
he'll take the bar of Sharper — Take him in two 
holes, do — i here's four pretty little knots as 
any in England — Whoo Eh ! 

Cor. But can't ypu let your coachman drive? 

G. Phil. No, no. — See me mount the box, 
handle the reins, my wrist turned down, square 
my elbows, stamp with my foot — Gee up !— Off 
we go — Button, do you want to have us over! 
—Do your work, do — Awhi! awhi ! — There we 
bowl away; see how sharp they are. — Gallows! 
— Softly up hill. — ( Whistles.) — 'I here's a public- 
hpuse. — Give 'em a moutblul of vpater, tio, and 



THE CITIZEN. 4i 

fetch me a dram — drink it off — Gee up ! Awhi ! 
Awhi ! — There we go scrambling altogether — 
reach Epsom in an hour and forty-three minutes, 
all Lombard-street to an egg-shell, we do. — 
There's your work my girl ! — eh ! damn me ! 

Old Phil. (Aside.) Mercy on me ! What a pro- 
fligate young dog it is. 

Enter Young Wilding, l.h. 

Wild. Ha ! my little Corinna — Sir, your ser- 
vant. 

G. Phil. Your Servant, sir. 

Wild. Sir, your servant. 

G. Phil Any commands for me, sir ? 

Wild. For you, sir ? 

G. Phil. Yes, for me, sir ? 

Wild. No. sir, I have no commands for you. 

G.Phil. Wliat's your business? 

Wild. Business ! 

G. Phil. Ay, business. 

Wild. Why, very good business, I think — my 
little Corinna — my life — my little — 

G. Phil. Is that your business? — Pray, sir — 
not so free, sir. 

Wild. Not so free ! 

G. Phil. No, sir; that lady belongs to me. 

Wild. To you, sir ! 

G. Phil. Yes, to me. 

Wild. To you ! — Who are you? 

G. Phil. As good a man as you. 

Wild. Upon my word ! — Who is this fellow, 
Corinna? Some journeyman-tailor, 1 suppose, 



42 THE CITIZEN. 

who chooses to try on the gentleman's clothes 
before he carries them home. 

G. Phil. Tailor!— What do you mean by that? 
— You he ! I am no tailor. 

Wild You shall give me satisfaction for that! 

G. Phil. For what ? 

Wild. For giving me the lie. 

G Phil. 1 did not. 

Wild. You did, sir. 

G. Phil. You lie ; I'll bet you five pounds 1 
did not. — But if you have a mind for a frolic — 
Now, sir, come on. — (In a boxing attitude.) 

Wild. Why, you scoundrel, do you think I 
want to box? , Draws.) — There, take that, sirrah 
— and that — and that, you scoundrel. 

(^Beating him.) 

Old Phil. (^Jlside.) Ay, ay ; well done ; lay it 
on. {Peeps mit.) 

Wild. {Beating him.) And there you rascal ; 
and there. 

Old Phil. (c/3si(^e.) Thank you; thank you.— 
Could not you find in your heart to lay him on 
another for me ? 

Cor. Pray, don't be in such a passion, sir. 

Wild. My dear Corinna, don't be frightened; 
I shall not murder him. 

Old Phil. Aside.] I am safe here — lie still, 
Isaac, lie still — : am safe. 

Wild, i'he fellow has put me out of breath. 
{Sits down.) {Old Phi pofs xoa'ch strikes ten under 
the (able.) Whose watch is that? {Stares round.) 
Hey! what IS all this? {Looks wider the table.) 
Your humble servant, sir ! 'i urn out, pray turn 



THE CITIZEN. 43 

out. — You wont — Then I'll unshell you. — 

[Exit Cor. R.H. 
(Takes away the table.) Your very humble ser- 
vant, sir. 

G Fhii Zounds ! my father there all this 
time. (Aside.) 

Wild. I suppose you will give me the lie too? 

Old Phil. (Still on the ground.) No, sir, not I, 
truly. — But the gentleman there may divert 
himself agam if he has a mind. 

G. Phil. No, sir, not I. 

Old Phil. George, you are there, I see. 

G. Phil. Yes, sir ; and you are there, I see. — ■ 
What an imp of hell she is. (Aside.) 

Wild. Come, get up, sir; you are too old to 
be beat. 

Old Phil. (Rising.) In troth, so I am. — But 
there you may exercise yourself again if you 
please. 

G. Phil. No more for me, sir, I thank you. 

Wild. Ha, ha! upon my soul, i can't help 
laughing at his old square loes. 

Old Phil. Oh ! George ! George ! 

G. Phil. Oh! tather! father! 

Wild. Ha, ha ! what father and son ! And so 
you have found one another out, ha, ha !- Well, 
you may have business, and so, gentlemen, I'll 
leave you to yourselves. [A,xi7, i .h. 

G. Phil. Don t be angry with me, sir.— I'll go 
my ways th's moment, tie myself up in this mat- 
rimonial noose, and never have any thing to do 
with these courses again. (Going.) 

Old Phil. And hark you, George; tie me up 



44 THE CITIZEJNT. 

in a real noose, and turn me off as soon as vou 

will. r jr, -' 

llLfXeunt, L.H. 

SCENE 11— Sir Jasper's House. 

Beaufort discovered, dressed as a lawyer, and Sm 
Jasper Wilding, with a bottle and glass in his hand. 

Beau. No more, Sir Jasper ; I can't drink any 
more. •' 

Sir Jasp. Why you be but a weezen-fac'd 
drinker, master Quagmire.-Come, man, finish 
this bottle. 

Beau. I besv to be excused.- You had better 
let me read over the deeds to you. 

Sir Jasp. Zouruls! you shall drink t'other bum- 
per, an you talk of ley. 

Enter William, l.h. 

Will. Old Mr. Philpot, sir, and his son. 
Sir Ja-p. Wounds! that's right; they'll take 
me out of the hand of this lawyer here. 

[Exit Will. L.H, 

Enter Old Phupot and George Philpot, l.h. 



Sir Jasp. Master Philpot, I be glad you are 
come ; this man here has so plagued me with his 
ley, but now we'll have no more about it, but 
sign the papers at once. 

Old Phil. Sir Jasper, twenty thousand pounds 
you know is a great deal of money.— 1 should 



THE CITIZEN. 45 

aot give you so much, if it was not for the sake 
of your daughter's marrying my son; so that, if 
you will allow me discount for prompt payment, 
I will pay the money down. 

G. Phil. Sir, I must beg to see the young lady 
once more before I embark ; for, fo be plam, 
sir, she appears to me a mere natural. 

Sir Jasp. I'll tell you what, youngster, I find 
my girl a notable wench. — Zee her again, maa 
. — zee her again — here, you, sirrah, send our 
Moll hither. — VVe'll go into t other room, crack 
a bottle, and settle matters there : and leave un 
together — Hoic ! hoic ! — Our Moll — Tally over- 

Enter Maria, r.h. 

Mar. Did you call me, papa? 

Sir Jasp. 1 did, my girl. — There, the gentle- 
man wants to speak with you. — Behave like a 
clever wench is you are. — Come along, my 
boys. — Master Quagmire, come and finish the 
business. 

[Exit^ R.H. singing, with Old Philpot and 
Beaufort. 

G. Phil. I know she is a fool, and so I will 
speak to her without ceremony. (Aside.) — Well, 
miss, you told me you could read and write? 

jMar. Read, sir — Reading is the delight of my 
life. — Do you love reading, sir? 

G.Phil. Prodigiously. — tiovv [lert she is grown 
— 1 have read very little, and I'm resolved for 
the future lo read less — (Aside.) — What have 
you read, miss ? 
5 



46 THE CITIZEN. 

Mar. Every thing. 
G. Phil. You have ? 
Mar. Yes, sir, I have. 

G. Phil. Oh ! brave. — And do you remember 
what you read, miss ? 

jMar. Not so well as I could wish. — Wits have 
short memories. 

G. Phil. Oh ! you are a wit too ? 
Mar. I am ; and do you know that I feel my- 
self provoked to a simile now. 

G. Phil. Provoked to a simile ! — Let us hear 
it! 

Mar, What do you think we are both like ! 
G. Phil. Well— 

Mar. Like Cymon and Iphigenia in Dryden's 
fable. 

G. Phil. Jenny in Dryden's fable ! 
Mar. The /aiming breeze upon her bosom blows ; 
To meet the fanning breeze her bosom rose. 
That's me — now you. 

He trudg''d along., unknowing what he sought, 
And whistled as he went (Mimicks.) ybr want of 

thought. 
G. Phil, i'his is not the same girl. 

{Disconcerted.) 
Mar. Mark again, mark again — 

The fool of nature stood with stupid eyes, 
And gaping mouth that testified surprise. 

{He looks foolish — she laughs at him.') 

G. Phil. I must take care how 1 speak to her; 

she is not the fool 1 took her for. {Aside.) 

Mar. You seem surprised, sir; but this is my 

way. I read, sir, and then I apply. — I have read 



THE CITIZEN. 47 

every thing; — Suckling, Waller, Milton, Dry- 
den, Lansdown, Gay, Prior, Swift, Addison, Pope, 
Young, Thomson. 

G. Phil. Hey ! the devil— what a clack is here ! 
(He walks across the stage.^ 

Mar. {Following him eagerly.) Shakspeare, 
Fletcher, Otwa}-, Southern, Row, Congreve, 
Wycherly, Farquhar, Gibber, V^anbrugh, Steele; 
in short every body ; and I find them all wit, 
fire, vivacity, spirit, genius, taste, imagination, 
raillery, humour, character, and sentiment. 

G. Phil. Her tongue goes like a water-mill. 

Mar. What do you say to me, now, sir? 

G. Phil. Say ! — I don't know what the devil 
to say. (^Aside.") 

Mar. What's the matter, sir? — Why you look 
as if the stocks were fallen ; or like London- 
bridge at low water ; or like a waterman when 
the Thames is frozen ; or like a poUtician with- 
out news; or like a prude without scandal; or 
like a great lawyer without a brief; or like some 
lawyers with one ; or — 

G. Phil. Or like a poor devil of a husband, 
henpecked by a wit, and so say no more of that. 

Mar. Oh, fye ! you have spoilM all — I had not 
half done. 

G. Phil. There is enough of all conscience. 
You may content yourself. 

Mar. But I can't be so easily contented ; I like 
a simile half a mile long. 

G. Phil I see you do. 

Mar. Oh ! And I make verses too ; verses like 
an angel ; off hand ; extempore.— Can you give 
me an extempore ? 



48 THE CITIZEN. 

G. Phil. What does she mean ! {Aside.) No, 
miss, 1 have never a one about me. 

Mar. You can't give me an extempore! Oh ! 
for shame, Mr. Philpot. 1 love an extempore of 
all things; and 1 love the poets dearly, their 
sense is so tine, their invention rich as Pactolus. 

G. Phil. A poet as rich as Pactolus I 1 have 
heard of Pactolus in the city. 

Mar. Very like. 

G. Phil. But you never heard of a poet as rich 
as he. 

Mar. As who? 

G. Phil. Pactolus. He was a g'reat Jew mer- 
chant; lived in the ward of Farringdon without. 

Mar. Pactolus, a Jew merchant ! Pactolus iS 
a river. 

G. Phil. A river! 

iViar. Yes. Don't you understand geography ? 

G. Phil. The girfs crazy! 

Mar, Oh! sir; if you don't understand geogra* 
phy, you are nobody. I un 'erstand geography, 
and I understand orthography; you know I told 
you I can write ; and I can dance too. Will you 
dance a minuet ? {Sings and dances ) 

G. Phil. You shan't lead me a dance, I pro- 
mise you. 

Mar. Oh ! very well, sir — you refuse me. — • 
Remember you'll hear immediately of my being 
married to another, and then you'll be ready to 
hanar yourself 

G. Phil. Not I, I promise you. 

Mar. Oh! very well; remember; mark my 
words ; I'll do it ; you shall see it—ha, ha ! 



THE CITFZEN. 49 

G. Phil. Marry you ! 1 would as soon carry 
my Wile to live in Bow-&treet, and write over the 
door " Philpol's punch bouse." 

Enter O1.D PnirpoT, Sn Jaspek, Young WildinGj 
and Be.aufokt, r.h. 

Sir Jasp. [Singing.) " So rarely, so bravely we''ll 
hnnt hint o'er the downs, and we'll hoop and we^ll 
hollow.'''' — Gee us your hand, voiing' scentleman, 
well; what zay ye to un now? Bent she a 
clever ^irl ? 

G Phil. A very extraordinary ^irl indeed. 

Sir Jasp. Did not 1 tell un zo 

Mar. VVell, papa, the g^^ntieui^^ti wont have 
me. 

'Hd Phil. The numskull wont do as his father 
bids him and so. Sir Jasper, with your consent, 
I'll make a proposal to the young: lady myself. 

jMar. How I '^ hat does he sav ? 

Old Phil. I am in the prim<> of my days, and 
I can be a brisk lover still. Fair ladv, a glance 
of your eye is like the returnne s'ln in the 
springr; it melts a ay the frost of a"- -. and ogives 
a new warmth and vigour to all r-.-ture. 

( Falls coughing.'^ 

Mar. Dear heart! I should Ike to have a 
scene with him. 

Si' Jasp. ' ey ' What's in the w nd now! — 
What say you, my girl, will you rock his orad'p? 

Mar. Sir, I have one small doubt. Pray can 
I have two busbaods at a time? 



so THE CITIZEN. 

G. Phil. There's a question now ! She is grown 
foolish again. 

Old Phil. Fair lady, the law of the land — 

Sir Jasp. Hold ye, hold ye ; let me talk of 
law ; I know the law better nor any on ye. Two 
husbands at once ! No, no; men are scarce, and 
that's down-right poaching. 

Mar. I am sorry for it, sir ; for then I can't 
marry him, I see. 

Sir Jasp. Why not? 

Mar. I am contracted to another. 

Sir Jasp. Contracted ! — To whom ? 

Mar. To Mr. Beaufort; that gentleman, sir. 

Sir Jasp. Master Quagmire ! What are you 
young Beaufort all this time ? 

Old Phil. That wont take, sir ; that wont take. 

Beau. But it must take, sir. You have sign'd 
the deeds for your daughter's marriage ; and, 
Sir Jasper, by this instrument has made me his 
son-in law. 

Old Phil. How is this ? How is this ? Then, 
Sir Jasper, you will agree to cancel the deeds, 
I suppose, for you know — 

Sir Jasp. Catch me at that, an' ye can ! I ful- 
filld my promise, and your son refused, and so 
the wench has looked out slily for herself else- 
where. Did I not tell you she was a clever 
girl? I ben't asham'd o' my girl. Our Moll, you 
have done no harm, and Mr. Beaufort is welcome 
to you with all my heart. I'll stand to what I 
have signed, though you have taken me by sur- 
prise. 

Mar. Well, brother, how have I play'd mv 
part ? 



THE CITIZEN. 



51 



Wild. > T, . , 

T, > 1 a miracle. 

oeau. ^ 

Mar. Have 1?— I don't know how that is — 

Love urg'd me on to try all wily arts, 
To win your (To Beaufort.) JVo, not yours — 
To win your hearts. (To the Audience.) 
Your hearts to win is now my aim alone ; 
" There if I grow., the harvest is your own.'''' 



Disposition of the Characters when the Curtain falls 




LB '20 



OXBERRY'S EDITION 

OP 



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